Odin Claus
by MotherofWolves
Summary: Skoll, the grandson of the god Loki, visits a local mall during the Yuletide season to menace and coheres an old friend as he sits on his makeshift throne. For those familiar with Skoll, this takes place soon after Moon's Wake.


The shopping center was a kaleidoscope of color and activity. Busy shoppers creating vortexes around sale bins and registers; children racing around the kiosks, sticky fingers contaminating everything they touched. The smell of dirty grease wafting up from the food court while the merry sounds of _Winter Wonderland_ blared over the ruckus, like a DJ's base line. Pure and utter chaos. Skoll loved it.

It was only a few days before December 25th and to the majority of the western world that meant buying gifts, planning parties and racking up credit card debt trying to impress the neighbors, in-laws, and offspring with the mighty purchasing power of the Christmas frenzy. It never ceased to amaze him how the turn of the centuries changed holidays. He remembered a time when such overt displays of celebration could lead to a death sentence. Stoic little Christians in their stoic little churches praying that their stoic little hearts would be worthy of a god that cast them down to hellfire so that their souls could be purged clean. What a joy that he had lived as a ward of the Unseelie at that time. Certainly his time in the Dark Court had not always been pleasant. In fact there were more than a few times that his life was nearly been snuffed out by one courtier or another. But the Fae had little to no conception of good or evil, least ways not the way man interpreted the duality. Not eating meat and self flagellation to atone for sins seemed such a distasteful and foreign subject to them.

Yet even as he thought of those long ago Christians, he remembered further back to the times when the darkest day of winter was called by another name. When feasts and fires ruled the nights and there was true fear that the sun would not return. He walked past a giant green throne trimmed in gold that sat on a platform surrounded by evergreens covered in fake snow. There was an imposing figure seated beneath the holly and greens holding court and hearing petitions from those children bold enough to seek an audience and humble enough to debase themselves by sitting on his lap. His beard was long, thick and white as the snow about him. The suit he wore was not the cheap, knock-off rental that most malls had. This was a beautiful garment of red wool into which were embroidered sigils and signs as modern as a sleigh and reindeer and old as the winds first breath. There was no floppy cap to cover his head, only an ermine trimmed hood. Skoll stood a moment watching the old man nod his head, listening to the child's request. There was a genuine twinkle of delight and cheerfulness to his eye, but only one. The other was dull and still. But the child didn't seem to notice and before long they were smiling for a photo, taken by one of the holiday elves who looked astoundingly beautiful and fit for underpaid mall worker. A wicked thought crossed Skoll's brain and he smiled as he stepped across the red carpeting to take his place in line.

He gathered a few awkward and hostile looks from some of the other people waiting in the queue. The fact that he was a grown man in a black trench coat standing in line to see Santa without a child seemed to put them off. But he flashed a grin and stared speaking nostalgically how his family was in a bit of turmoil this Christmas and how he and his brother had had a fight. Now he wasn't going to be able to see his niece this year, whom he adored. It seemed silly, he knew, but some childlike impulse made him want to see Santa so that he could ask for all his family to be back together this Christmas. By the time he reached the velvet rope the grandmother in front of him was in tears and the man behind him had offered him his card and an invitation to join their family for the holiday if things didn't turn out.

One of the elf assistants approached to unhook the rope and gave Skoll a look to kill.

"Do you have a child with you, sir?" The words were polite, the tone was not.

"No, my son isn't with me this year," he replied, tears welling to his eyes for greater effect.

"Then I am unfortunately going to have to ask you to step out of line. Visits to Santa are for children only," she replied gesturing towards the exit.

"What about someone who's a child at heart?" he asked.

"Oh please, Ms.," Skoll's new queue friend protested, "What's the harm? He's waited just like everyone else."

The elf assistant was not amused, "You have two minutes."

She brushed back the lapel of her jacket to place an impatient hand on her hip. To the average mall goer, it would seem like a haughty gesture, but Skoll saw it for what it was, a threat. The seam of her candy stripped hose shimmered, revealing a brief glimpse of a blade, long as her thigh. Faery glamour hid the weapon from those that didn't pose a threat. Skoll could see it plain as day. Valkyries, he mused, ever the cautious ones.

The little boy ahead of him was just hopping off the old man's lap as he and the elf assistant approached. The grandmother gave Skoll a warm grin and a fair well wave which he returned as he watched them exit. The old man sat just beyond his peripheral vision, but the weight of his gaze was a palpable sensation. When they say that Santa knows if you've been bad or good, they truly mean it. And at that very moment, all of the old man's attention was focused on him. The weight of his actions over the past year pressed down upon his subconscious, until it felt as though he could not take a breath. The good he'd done was there as well, but by comparison, his bad actions crushed them out of sight. He wanted to cry, to run, to hide from what he'd done. He wanted to scream and beg for forgiveness. It made him think of a song.

"You'd better watch out….You'd better not cry … You'd better not pout … I'm telling you why," he turned towards the old man, grin on his lips, "Santa Claus is coming to town."

He finished the song and slunk into the old man's lap, wrapping his arms around the old man in a hug, laying his head on his giant red chest.

"I've been a very naughty boy this year Santa,"

"That doesn't surprise me," returned the baritone voice of the old man, "What do you want Skoll?"

Skoll raised his head and looked the old man in the good eye.

"Do you ever miss it?" he asked.

"Miss what?"

"Riding through the night? Chasing down the wicked and distributing true justice? Feeling the power of the hunt at your back?"

"I should have left you were I found you," the old man grimaced, "Or better yet, let my dogs tear you apart."

"Oh," Skoll shouted in shock, "Such vile things you say Santa. How could you ever have left two innocent good little boys to suffer so.? Think of your reputation!"

"My reputation was quite different back in those days as you just recalled."

Skoll chuckled patting the old man's protruding belly, "Yeah, I know, times change and so have you. Have you seen your son lately?! Fire and Ice, he looks more like the comic books every day."

"Thor has his duties the same as I do. It is the nature of gods to change and go to the needs of their worshipers."

"Yeah, some more than others," Skoll giggled prodding at the old man's belly.

"Do you have something to say or are you here to annoy me?" the old man asked, a touch of thunder to his voice, as in days of old. The Valkyrie elf beside them frowned at Skoll, arms crossed, waiting for the signal to dispose of him.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I want for Christmas?"

"Naughty boys don't get presents," the old man grinned.

"No they take them," Skoll grinned back.

Their eyes locked, and once again Skoll felt the pounding weight of his actions press against the back of his skull, threatening to crash in and bring the tide of regret. He thought back to his childhood with the Fae. There is no good or bad. He reminded himself. Only the roles we have to play. I am chaos, like my grandfather before me. I am not bad or evil. I am myself and I am a necessary force in this world as sure as the light requires darkness.

"I have a message for you," Skoll whispered, so that only the old man could hear, "You're estranged brother misses you. He's gathering all the family together for the holidays and wanted to send you an invitation to the revelry."

The old man's face was grim, quiet and controlled. Skoll knew that his words were no surprise to him. With one eye in the well, there were very few things that took Odin Allfather off his guard.

"You know where to find me," he said standing up and giving the scowling Valkyrie elf a grin. He leaned over to the table behind her to retrieve a candy cane. Her hand flew instantly to her sword.

"Settle down," Skoll soothed her, "you don't want the kiddies to see."

Then he pulled the wrapper free and began sucking on the tip of the stripped sugar, admiring her.

"You know you can suck my candy cane any time you'd like."

"Go to Hel," she spat back.

He nodded, "I'll give my aunt your regards."

He turned to the exit, "He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good. So be bad for goodness sake."


End file.
